Pretty Things
by Dangerously Dazzling
Summary: She had her life ripped apart and did not want it to happen again. Edward disappeared, leaving a heartbroken 15 year-old Bella behind. When he shows up again ten years later, Bella is torn between taking him back and shutting him out completely. AH-ANGSTY
1. Prologue

**PRETTY THINGS  
****  
DISCLAIMER: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**

PROLOGUE

BPOV

* * *

His lips tasted like vanilla.

Once I had started, I couldn't stop. It was like an insane addiction that I had been able to function without so far for thirteen years of my life. And then, as soon as it was introduced, I couldn't stop. I spent every waking minute thinking about it. Every second I was around him, I found myself looking at his lips and wishing they were against mine as I felt the swirl of his tongue. I would be sitting next to him and would resist the urge to tangle my hands into his hair and tug his face down to mine.

It was strange. I had always thought that kissing would be something you had to think about. You would have to carefully move your tongue in specific patterns and be perfectly synchronized when moving your lips. Your hands would have to be placed in the exact spots and you had to breathe in timed intervals.

I wanted that sort of contact, but at the same time was absolutely petrified. _What if I was no good? Would he make fun of me for not knowing how to kiss properly? Would he reject me? What if I didn't like it? I had never felt a tongue on mine before, would I be grossed out? _

But when I was kissing him, I didn't think about anything, and couldn't dredge up the idea to be embarrassed at my lack of experience. I just lent myself over to the feelings and let myself do what my body directed me to do. And from the pants and sighs that came from him, I must have been doing something right.

His arms wrapped around me, tightening their hold around my back as his hands moved from my hair to my neck, wrapping around my shoulders and occasionally moving down to cup my backside.

My back arched and I pressed against him, causing us to stagger. We broke away for a moment and I let myself breathe as he peppered my cheeks and forehead. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that this was happening to me. That this perfect God was mine. That he felt the same for me that I felt for him. It was hard to fathom because it just didn't happen. These kinds of things just don't exist.

He brought his lips back to mine and we continued our activities.

Someone was clapping somewhere in the vicinity, and, not knowing or caring who it was, I stuck my hand in the direction of the noise and lifted my middle finger. I heard a chuckled and felt him smile against my mouth. The feel of his teeth against my lips sent shivers down my spine.

He was leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped around my waist as mine wrapped around his neck when we heard Jasper's squeaky voice echoing down the darkened hallway of our high school. "Where's Edward?"

"Shit," he whispered against my lips.

We hadn't been able to keep our hands off of each other since we left the state championships football game. I had been able to sneak onto the bus with him on the way back to school, and we had traveled seventy miles without coming up to breathe. We came back and easily avoided his friends and found a darkened hallway where we continued to feed our addiction.

"Edward!" Emmett's booming voice was closer now and we could hear his pounding footsteps. I couldn't help but chuckle. "Edward, I know where you are and I know what you're doing." I giggled. He groaned. "And I swear to God, if you are not out here in two seconds I will kick your ass in every direction!" I was laughing so hard that I pulled away and darted behind a pillar. I pressed my back against the wall and covered my mouth to hold my laughter.

"And keep your goddamn pants _on_!"

A hand clasped around mine and pulled me back toward the main hallway. I heard his light footsteps as he raced gracefully and thoughtlessly to Emmett's voice. Feminine laughter joined in with mine as we ran toward the front doors. "Bella, I can't believe you!" Alice laughed, bursting through the door and pulling me toward her car.

Laughing, we threw ourselves into the seats. I clutched my stomach as I continued to laugh, choking on air as I tried to suck it down. "I…caught the…finger…you shot… at…me," she said through her giggles. "Very…nice. I still…can't…believe…you two… are…"

She continued to talk as she turned on the car and raced out of the parking lot. After I had a moment to calm down, I realized that I had left without saying goodbye to him. We had both broken away, racing off in separate directions. I felt bad, and waited until Alice dropped me off in the safety of my own house and I was locked in my bedroom to pull my phone out. I sent him a text message.

He never responded. And I wouldn't see him again for another ten years.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, what did you think? Please review and let me know if I should keep going with this one. If I get twenty, I can post another chapter by the end of today.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer in Prologue**

**CHAPTER 1: Silk, Perfume and Liquor**

**BPOV**

I was not sure what the hell the problem was, but whatever the case may be, it needed to be rectified.

Quick.

I was sitting outside of a dressing room stall, waiting for Alice to try on her twenty-seventh dress in the past hour. Now, being the maid of honor and pre-designated co-coordinator, I was subject to all forms of torture, whether it be dealing with the temperamental caterer, handling a flower fiasco or making sure that the Rose Room was secured for the reception, and not the Gold Room. Lord knows that the world is ending if Alice is placed in anything under the supremacy of the Rose Room, when the only difference is the color on the walls.

I really didn't mean to be cross with her. She was my best friend and this was her wedding; her special moment, and in that I needed to be happy for her and smile, making it look like I would rather get hit by a semi than not plan her wedding. But my period was on the way and I was going to be late for my job if she didn't figure out why she didn't want her dress and tell the tailor to fix it. Either than or I was going to ditch, making her walk around in a skirt suit.

"Bella?" her fairy like voice called from behind the door.

"Yes?" Monotone was always safest with her, when you didn't want to let her know how you were truly feeling without upsetting her--in Alice's case, upsetting her would be like Tom Cruise telling Catholics that the pope was gay and in his heart a Scientologist. Nothing could compare to the uproar.

"Will you come here for a minute, please?"

_My main purpose and aspiration in life is to serve you._

I stood, laid my bridesmaid dress on the bench and walked over to the door. "I'm right here, Alice."

The lock clicked and she pulled the door open. I couldn't help but smile as I looked in on her, standing on a podium in the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It clung to her tiny figure perfectly, making her look more fairy-like than I had ever seen her before. It was a crisp white color that was strapless, with intricate beading on the bodice and a long, flowing skirt that flared into a wide lace train. It was gorgeous.

Her face, however, was not.

"You don't like it," I mumbled, already turning to head out the door. _Dammit._

She followed me out into the store, ignoring the envious looks that were cast her way by other brides. I grabbed my dress and walked straight up to the cashier, sitting my garment bag on the counter. "All set?" the woman asked.

"Yeah," I mumbled, reaching for my credit card.

I heard the rustling of skirts and smelled Chanel Number 5 before I actually heard her. _For someone so small clad in ten pounds of silk and lace, she moves pretty damn fast. _"Bella, don't be ridiculous. Put your wallet away." She said to the cashier, "Charge it to my account please." The chashier meerly nodded, instead of asking for a name, indicating that we had been to this shop more than once. Alice took hold of my wrist, pulling me back toward the dressing room.

"Alice," I groaned. "I have to go."

"Please, just wait. One more."

I sighed. "Alice Brandon, you said that thirty minutes ago. After the twenty-third dress."

She stamped her foot but I didn't even think to laugh at how childish she was being. I was growing angrier by the moment, and if she didn't decide on something fast I was going to take off like a bat out of hell.

She sighed. "I know! But there's this saying my mom used to tell me all the time. And her mom told her when she was getting married. You will know when you find the perfect dress. You will turn around and you will see it and think 'That's it. That's the dress I want to see myself in in all the photo albums. I won't be ashamed in that twenty years from now.' And dammit Bella, I want the perfect dress!"

I slung my purse over my shoulder. By now, we had attracted the attention of others in the store. The clerks were watching in worry, other brides were watching in awe, and the men in the store looked scared--and they had a right to be. Anyone that was in the vicinity of Alice Brandon when she had a meltdown would swear that they were witnessing the Apocalypse if they weren't immune to it already.

"Alice," I said in a very calm and level-headed tone. "I have _got _to get to work. I understand that you want your wedding to be perfect, but I'm beginning to think that it is impossible! You can't decide which flowers you want for your center pieces, you change your mind from filet mignon to smoked salmon and then back again, and you've re-ordered your wedding cake. Five times!" My voice was rising higher and louder as I let all the stress from the past five months leak out. "And now you want to find the right wedding dress, when it clearly _doesn't exist!_"

I drew in a deep breath. She stared at me for a moment, her doe eyes wide, and then before I could blink had locked herself back in the dressing room. I immediately regretted yelling at her and knocked on the door. "Alice, I'm sorry. Alice?" I could hear sniffles behind the door. _Crap. _"Alice? I'm really sorry." I knocked on the door again. "Please come out Alice. I'll go get you another dress."

"No," she said softly over the door. "Go to work. I'll figure something out."

"Alice..."

"It's fine, Bella. Go to work."

Figuring that arguing any further with her was pointless, I turned and walked up to the cashier. I handed her my credit card. "Please, just charge it to this."

She eyed me over her moon-framed spectacles. "Do you really think that would be wise, dear?" she asked.

I felt my mouth open but put my card in my purse and without another word turned to leave the boutique. A person can only feel bad to a certain extent, but having a complete stranger know more about your best friend than you do and calling you out on it is the worst feeling in the world.

*

I rubbed my eyes as I sat in the library, staring at the same highlighted paragraph I had been trying to decipher for the past half hour. There was only so much one could take of the same subject before their brain turned to mush and couldn't even tell the difference between light and dark.

I had been sitting there for the past three hours, cramming for an exam the next day. Life was getting more and more difficult as it progressed, school becoming less and less of a priority as other things took precedence in my life--Alice and her wedding, taking care of Charlie who was getting sicker and sicker, keeping up with my regular job _and _my internship, plus making sure I ate and slept and went to the bathroom regularly, though it felt like taking a shit had to be scheduled to fit in.

To say that I had forgotten about the test tomorrow was an understatement.

I had chosen to stay in school, even though I didn't have to. I had already gotten my Bachelor's and Masters degrees, and now was working toward a PhD in English Literature, though right now I was beginning to doubt why anyone in their right mind's would choose such a hideous profession. I was sick to death of analysing and dissecting and trying to get into the brains of dead writers. I wanted to get that piece of paper, hang it on my wall and move on my merry way, saying, _See Edward, I told you so!_

My eyes suddenly filled with angry tears and I slammed my book shut in frustration, causing dust mites to fly and several other late-night crammers to look over in my direction. In agony, I folded my arms on the table and I put my head down, taking deep breaths. It had been ten years, and he was still affecting me like this. Ten years and I still thought of him as I had when I was a hormone-filled, lovesick teenager.

There were days when the hopeless romantic in me would wake up and hope that he had come back for me, that he was waiting just outside my door ready to sweep me off my feet and take me to the places of my dreams, letting me leave everything behind and showing me what it was like to truly live.

And then there were days when I just wanted to curl up and cry, knowing that he would never come back.

And why should he? I was nothing special. Just the ordinary Bella Swan, who even at twenty-four tripped over the air, blushed whether she was being complimented or humiliated and was nothing above average in the looks or brain power department. I had always been thin, with virtually no cleavage and the body of a twelve year old. I had always stayed in the B and C range in Advanced Placement in school, never doing outstandingly well and yet never giving up on hoping that one day I would be exactly what he wanted.

Even as a fifteen year old, I had always had the inkling that I wasn't good enough for him. Back then, he had been the epitome of perfection, glowing brilliantly in his beauty and intelligence, outshining everyone at the tiny school of Forks High. Whether it be in a heated debate over politics, making an impossible catch to win the state championships, or disproving the anatomy teacher with his outstanding intellect, he was always in the spotlight, proving himself as superior. He could walk through a rainstorm and still come to school looking like he belonged in a hair gel commercial, or could come out of football practice looking like a pale Adonis.

I had fallen in love with him from the moment he introduced himself to me in Biology, and would have followed him around like a lost puppy had he allowed me to. But he didn't because he was never leading me anywhere; he was always standing by my side, taking me with him wherever he went, standing by me, holding my hand, and on occasion following _me. _

He had never made me feel unwanted, but there was always this feeling that there was something off between us.

He was adopted into his family, leaving him as the youngest after Emmett. His parents were well known throughout society, and were fairly wealthy at that. His mother Esme sat as president, head chairperson, and representative on so many committees it was hard for me to keep them straight. His father Carlisle was a prominent doctor in the area, preferring to work at the smaller hospitals yet still being well known throughout the state of Washington. His brother was nothing short of huge, literally and figuratively, being the star on the varsity football team, and having muscles wrapped around his tall frame that made even me cower in front of him. Though he was a little on the dim-witted side he was known throughout the Senior population at Forks High--as well as all of the other classes--for being one of the most lovable and respectable boys in all of Forks.

He never complained about his family, yet I knew he still felt like he didn't quite belong. Carlisle, Esme and Emmett had greeted him with open arms, making him feel nothing short of loved, and though he never said it I could tell that he was grateful and beyond appreciative. But there were times when he would sneak into my room through my window late at night and hold me in my bed, and after he had drifted off to sleep I would hear him muttering, "Mommy. Mommy, don't make me go."

He always called Esme by her first name.

He was referring to his biological mother.

It was doing me no good remembering thpse things now, so I picked my head up and slid my books off the table and into my bag. Sighing, I stood from the table and walked toward the sliding doors, ignoring the prickling in my legs from having been seated for so long. I turned to nod at the librarian, but sighed when I saw that she wasn't there. I glanced at the clock above the door and saw 11:45.

Terrific.

My eyes threatened to slide closed as I drove back to the dorms. I had always found it a little ridiculous that I was still living in a dormitory at the age of twenty-four, but I had yet to find the time to go apartment hunting. And money was tight with Charlie's illness and tuition fees, so staying in the dorm with the little bit of furniture and clothing I had was about as good as it was going to get until I graduated. I was embarrassed about it, being one of the oldest people there but mainly kept to myself.

I let myself into my room, being so tired that I didn't notice that there was a tiny piece of white material hanging from the knob. As I flipped on the light I was met with the disturbing sight of my roommate Tanya and a boy she probably picked up from a party twisted into a position that even I didn't recognize--and I had seen many, being a sexually frustrated adult who had nothing to resort to but her computer.

"Oh, jeez," I put my hand up in front of my eyes, tossing my bag onto the floor. The boy that was underneath her looked over at me, blinking but not pausing in his thrusting. Tanya did not open her eyes, but I could hear her hiss. I turned on my heel and slammed the door shut behind me, forcing the tears that were forming in my eyes away.

I slunk down to the common room, ignoring the looks of pity and curiosity that were cast my way. I pulled a shawl from a cabinet in the corner of the room and curled up on the shabby couch. The TV was on, but the news had rarely held any interest for me. Several students were formed in a study group, pulling an all night study session, but I saw no sense in bothering them so I turned toward the fire burning in the fireplace. The orange flames acted as tongues, licking up through the brick, eating away the wood underneath them.

It was mid-December. Outside, the wind picked up as I continued to stare at the orange flames, slowly beginning to die down. One by one, students began to realize how tired they were and packed up to leave. I sat on the couch, my legs beginning to tingle in restlessness. No one came up to talk to me, and for that I was grateful. The longer I could continue to exist in my comatose state with no disruptions, the happier I would be.

I must have drifted off eventually, because when I opened my eyes, the fire had died down to a soft glow. The light was beginning to creep over the horizon through the window, and I could smell coffee brewing somewhere in the vicinity. I yawned and stretched, glancing around. The lights were dimmed, and I could make out the soft sounds of everyone in the dorm beginning to wake. Footsteps echoed off in one direction, a sneeze sounded from another. Deciding that I couldn't avoid the inevitable, I stood, placed the blanket back in the cabinet, and made my way back to my room.

I stepped into the room to find Tanya sitting at a stool in front of her vanity, clad in nothing but a skimpy white robe, applying her makeup. She looked up at me, eyeing me, and then turned back to her face.

"So," she said, lifting the eybrow pencil. "Where did you go last night?"

"The library," I mumbled, pulling a t-shirt from the dresser we shared.

She snorted. "You slept in the library?" Her tone was cocky and condescending, but the way it sounded made me want to giggle.

I blushed. "No, I slept in the common room." I pulled my sweatshirt off.

She arched her perfectly colored eyebrow. "I underestimated you, Swan."

I blushed at her pointed look at my breasts.

"You always wear those ugly sweatshirts all the time. You should try a form fitting shirt."

I shook my head and slipped the shirt on. "I'm fine."

"Whatever." She batted her thickened black eyelashes at her reflection, then stood and stretched her perfectly shaped, perfectly tanned, perfectly blonde body. Without looking at me, she pulled open the closet door and pulled out a flashy red dress. She held it up to herself, eyeing it constructively in the mirror. "Too Eleanor Roosevelt."

I felt my eyes widen. "Tanya, it's like, five inches long."

She shrugged and tossed it haphazardly on the bed. She went back to the closet, rifled around for a few seconds, then pulled out another dress, midnight blue and probably about three inches shorter. I felt my mouth drop open slightly.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You should know better than to think I would wear something conventional." She scoffed and shredded her robe without a second thought.

And I got to see _all _of her.

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head.

She chuckled and murmured, "Such a prude. I'm done."

I opened my eyes to see her reaching over to grab a clutch from the chair and slipping her feet into sky high heels. She glanced around the room for a moment before spotting a tiny bottle of perfume. She spritzed herself and I winced.

"You smell like a baby prostitute."

She glared at me. "And who brings men back to the room?"

I blushed.

She opened the door and in the process of closing it she said to me, "If anyone comes here for me, tell them I will be back at three."

I said nothing as the door closed and instead slipped out of my jeans and into sweat pants. Where she could possibly be going dressed like that at ten in the morning I had no clue, but I had to take my test, so I don't know why she thought I would be staying here to take her messages. I fixed my hair--pulling it into a more conventional ponytail--and one look at my reflection told me that not even makeup could hide the huge bags under my eyes of puffiness in my lips. Sighing, I snagged my Chapstick, slipped my feet into flip flops and slung my bag over my shoulder.

I desperately wanted to piss Tanya off, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I scribbled a note on a piece of paper dictating where she was--because she was the only person that people came to the room to look for--and stuck it to the door, closing and locking it behind me.

*

I closed my fingers around the rag Jake had tossed at me and dragged it along the counter. The strong smell of lemon 409 make my throat burn, but I continued to brush peanut crumbs and water droplets onto the floor.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Anything to distract me from the butchering I had done of a rather simple exam.

"Bella, calm down," Jake said from the taps as he filled a mug with Bud Light. "You're gonna wear the varnish off the counter. Relax."

I tossed the rag into the bucket under the counter and swiped a napkin, placing it in front of a past drunk old man who could barely keep his head up. I grabbed the bowl of peanuts out from under his chin, refilled it and placed it back in front of him.

I looked up at the man who sat down in front of me, and it barely registered when he ordered a Sex on the Beach. I just moved back to the counter and began mixing the alcohol. It sloshed into a glass without any notice and I slid it in front of him.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said. I nodded and moved to collect a tip that was laying on the table.

Jake had noticed when I came in, drained and exhausted, that something was up. He immediately suggested that I take the night off, but when I said 'no' didn't press the issue. He had respectfully kept a peaceful silence, and knew not to ask what was wrong. He let me work, doing what I did best, and didn't press me to talk or be polite to the customers--they were the same every week anyway.

I continued to fill orders and mix liquor in a comatose state for the next hour, only stopping to brush errant strands of hair out of my face. Jake and I worked side by side in silence, slipping tips into the drawer for divvying later, occasionally wiping down the counter and refilling peanut bowls. There was a slight tension in the air, and even the customers could sense it, because we didn't have to break up any fights, and when they sat down, no one bitched about their lives. They just drank and stewed in angry silence.

"So, what does a person have to do around here to get a shot?"

I looked up to see Rosalie, one of my longest friends, sliding onto a bar stool in front of me. I grinned. She was known for popping up out of nowhere, and looked perfect whenever she did it. I noticed as all eyes along the bar slid over to her and eyed her appreciatively. I reached instinctively under the counter and pulled out two shot glasses. "What'll it be?"

"Tequila," she said, and I reached behind me and pulled up the bottle.

"Lemon or Tabasco?"

She pondered this for a moment, and then said shortly, "Tabasco."

I pulled the small bottle out from under the counter and sat it in front of her. I poured the clear liquid from the Tequila bottle into the shot glasses and the opened the Tabasco, dabbing it on the skin in between my thumb and forefinger. I handed her the bottle and she did the same, looking up at me. We crossed arms, licked the hot sauce from our skin and threw back the shots.

I grimaced as the warm liquid flowed down my throat and into my belly. I shivered.

Rose chuckled.

"So," she said, reaching for a peanut and popping it into her mouth. "Alice told me about the finalized guest list, and I can't tell you how excited--"

"Final guest list?" She hadn't said anything to me about it.

Rose nodded. "Yep. She got the final acceptance card today."

"Oh. Who from?"

Rosalie looked at me warily. "You mean, you don't know?"

I shook my head. "No. She hasn't talked to me in two days."

Rose fidgeted, pulling a loose string from her shirt. "Oh...well..."

"Rose, who is it?"

She looked up at me, sadness and hesitation coloring her blue eyes. And even then, without her saying anything, I knew who had sent in the RSVP card. I felt my heart clench as I waited for her to respond. It wasn't possible. How could Alice know where he was and not tell me. How could she invite him without telling me? Why was all this happening now. I didn't need the added stress now. I wasn't sure if I could handle it.

"Bella... Edward's coming to the wedding."

I let go of the breath I didn't know I had been holding and felt something hard and cold catch me as my knees gave out.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is all human! It's not Edward that catches her! So please don't think that. So, I hope this was worth the wait. If you have any questions or requests, just review. Well, review period, but extra review if you have a question.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer in Profile**

**CHAPTER 2: Iron Roses, Sweat, and Marble**

**BPOV**

I could vaguely hear Rose and Jake arguing above me, but chose not to open my eyes just yet. It was abnormally peaceful, lying here on this cold floor, smelling the Pine Sol used to mop the floors with a tingling undertone of dust. From lying here on the floor, I could tell that I would need to pay more attention when mopping--dirt was everywhere under the counter.

"What did you say to her, Blondie?" Jake's voice was saturated with rage, however a gentle, warm palm touched my cheek.

His brief touch was slapped away and I got a whiff of J'adore perfume. My nose wrinkled. "She's fine, Jacob Black," Rosalie said in a nasally, prissy voice. "Maybe you should let her take a day off. Go home and let her rest? She's got bags under her eyes the size of freezer Ziplocs."

I thought I had covered those up. _They aren't that big, were they?_

Jake snorted. "She won't let me even _think _to tell her to take off. She shows up here every day, sometimes before I do. She shows up rain or shine, whether she's happy or pissed off, when she's stressed out and tired, in sickness or in health..."

His voice drowned out as he continued to prattle about the random yin-and-yang obstacles that I overcame to come to work. _In sickness or in health... Edward. Alice's wedding. Edward. Next weekend. Edward..._

_Edward..._

Air whooshed through my nose as I gasped. The full impact that was about to happen hit me as if I had run head-on into a brick wall. Edward would be coming back to Forks. He would be_ here_. For the first time in ten years, I would have to see him. But in that moment, I wasn't sure of it. Going back to Forks and seeing all the people I hadn't seen in six years would be bad, but seeing Edward's family, seeing Edward himself, would be pure, unbearable torture.

Would he even care?

_Of course he doesn't, you fool. He left without so much as a goodbye, remember?_

Oh yes, I remembered.

"... quit being so dramatic," Rose was saying. "You are such a dumbass sometimes, Jacob."

"Watch it," he growled. "You are only back here because Bella is lying unconscious on the floor. If she weren't here I would have kicked your blonde butt all the way back to the whore house where you belong two minutes ago."

She snarled at him, and I took that opportunity to open my eyes, just in case I needed to intervene. Rosalie sighed and Jake grinned. "You dropped like a roach that inhaled too much Raid. Are you o...hey! OW! Dammit Rosalie, that's it. Get out of here!"

She grinned triumphantly and I couldn't help but giggle at the resounding thud as she swatted the back of his shaved head with her purse again. She stood fluidly, brushed off her seamless khaki's and clacked around the bar on her four inch stiletto's. "Bella, you have two seconds to take off that ugly-ass apron and grab your bag. We're going home."

_Home. _There was that word again. However this time, it didn't give me the rush of anxiety it had a few minutes ago. I was going to get to see my family. Given, the long drive from Seattle back to Forks wouldn't be so pleasant, but I was anxious to see Charlie. Sue Clearwater, who had taken it upon herself to move into my old bedroom to look after my dad, had called frequently with updates about his health, and he seemed fine. But I still wanted to see him.

With Charlie's face clear in my mind and blocking Edward's, I stood from the dirty floor and gave Jake an apologetic look. "Alice's wedding is in a week," I said. "Alice wants me to be there for last minute planning." _I hope. _We still hadn't spoken since the dress incident, and I was starting to get worried. Whenever we fought, Alice always called to apologize, or I the other way around. And she still hadn't called, even after 48 hours. "I'm going to be gone all week."

"That's right, you told me about that," he said. "Sure. I'll see you when you get back."

I nodded, slipped the apron off and stuffed it under the counter. I reached my hand toward the tip jar, ready to count it out and split it in half like we did every night. Jacob's soft voice stopped me. "Go ahead and take all of it. You won't be here for a week to collect anything, so you may as well take what you can now." He grinned.

I smiled and reached over, awkwardly giving him a one-armed hug. "Thanks, Jake," I whispered into his ear, and then stuffed the wad of bills into my purse. "I'll see you next week."

He nodded and picked up the rag, sweeping it along the counter-top. "You're lucky you've got me as a boss."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and grabbed my elbow, pulling me out the door. "I know!" I yelled back at him, ignoring the tugs as Rosalie pulled me out to the parking lot.

"You need to get a new job," Rosalie said, unlocking her BMW with the electronic key. I sighed.

Rose had never approved of my being a bartender at the university pub. She thought that I was too smart to be mixing alcohol, but I disagreed with her strongly. I got good pay, and customers seemed to like me, giving me more money in tips than I had ever received in my life. Plus, Jacob had always been a good friend of mine, ever since he had helped me find my dorm room my first day on campus. He had popped up in a few of my classes and made a good study partner, and eventually gave me this job.

I slid in soundlessly, relaxing against the seat and leaning my head back. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the long drive back. The car started with a gentle hum, and soft jazz filled the interior as she smoothly pulled out of the parking lot. I shifted in my seat, aimed the vent toward the window to get rid of the cool draft, and soundlessly drifted off into a silent sleep.

I hadn't realized this however until I felt her nudging my shoulder. I woke with a start, glancing out the window and rubbing my eyes. The clock on the dashboard said 1:30. I yawned. "Already?"

Rosalie sighed. "You've only been asleep the whole ride back." She opened her door and darted from the car excitedly.

I blushed sheepishly and unbuckled my seat belt.

I had barely opened the door when I saw Rose catapult herself up the steps and into the arms of Emmett. I gasped. I thought she would be taking me back to her apartment. I thought that's where we were going to be staying. I didn't think she would be bringing me back here. I wasn't prepared for this--I didn't know what to say, how to act.

I didn't know if I would be able to handle being in Edward's old home again.

I turned to look away as they met in a soft embrace, one that made my eyes tingle and my heart thrum quietly. I heard her giggle, and then the door opened. I waited a few seconds until they were gone, staring up at the surprisingly clear, moonlit night sky, then walked around the edge of the car and into the house.

The Cullens house was the same as I had remembered it, which made it that much harder to be there in the first place. Given, Esme had moved the furniture around a little, had repainted the baseboards on the windows and had added more pictures to the mantle above the roaring fire place, but the same comforting feeling of acceptance was there, the same feeling of peace and calm.

I could be myself in this house.

Rosalie and Emmett were nowhere to be seen, but as I rounded the corner into the living room, I saw Carlisle, resting peacefully in an overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace, a book nestled in his lap, his perfect eyes trained on every word as they floated past him. Esme, who hadn't changed a bit, from the color of her hair to the pristine clothing that she wore, was sitting on the leather sofa across from him, thumbing through a copy of _Southern Living. _

They hadn't noticed that I had come in, and so, mustering all my courage, I opened my mouth and said softly, "Planning to redecorate again, Esme?"

She started, looking up at me with surprise and bewilderment. Carlisle grinned up at me, and they both stood up, Esme tossed her magazine haphazardly on the couch--the most carelessly than I had ever seen her--and Carlisle closed his book without even marking his page. They hurried over to me and Esme enveloped me in a hug that made me want to cry out in happiness. This was what I had been missing. The true feeling of contentedness had been gone for ten years, since the day that Edward left and I stopped seeing them, and my heart filled and overflowed with happiness at having this back again. Having a part of it back again.

"We've missed you, Bella," Carlisle said softly, rubbing my back. "It hasn't been the same without you here."

Esme was crying, and as she pulled away from me, she laid a hand against my cheek. "My goodness, dear," she sniffled. "You've grown so much."

I blushed, tugging self-consciously at my shirt. "I've cut my hair," I said lamely.

Carlisle laughed. "Well, I would have hoped you would." Then, softer, "Ten years is a long time, Bella."

I nodded. My heart felt like it was cracking now--such a contradiction to what I had been feeling a few moments ago. They were going to bring Edward into it, and I didn't feel up to talking about it now. It was hard enough, just being in his old house, being in the same rooms that we had spent our last days in. I didn't want to talk much about the cause of losing this as well.

Esme smiled. "Well, let me show you to your room." She looked around expectantly for my things. "Where are your bags?"

I shrugged apologetically. "I don't have any."

Carlisle's brow's furrowed. "No bags?"

I shook my head. "I presumed we would be going back to Rosalie's apartment and I would just wear her clothes there. She kind of kidnapped me from work and all but dragged me back here, not giving me a chance to grab anything."

Esme smiled. "That's sounds like her. She and Emmett haven't seen each other in about two weeks." And to punctuate her remark, there was a thud from upstairs, followed by a soft moan.

I sucked in a breath. This was going to be uncomfortable.

I shifted my stance and Esme patted my arm. "No matter. I'm sure we will get you something."

She led me up the flight of stairs and I sucked in a breath as we walked down the hallway that I had once been so accustomed to. Emmett's room was on the left, two doors from the staircase, and I could tell that this hadn't changed as the thuds and bangs grew louder as we passed. Carlisle and Esme's room was on the right, followed by the bathroom. I stopped at the end of the hallway. Up the spiral staircase at the end was Edward's room.

"Bella?"

I turned to see Esme stopped in front of a door. The old library.

She opened the door with a soft click and flipped a light switch. Without turning to me, she moved over to the black, wrought-iron bed. I stood, frozen in the doorway. As she pulled back the throw pillows, tossing them on the familiar black leather couch in the corner of the room, I felt my heart stop. It was as if she had taken all of the furniture from Edward's old room and moved it down here. She had changed the sheets, from a gold satin to a light blue cotton, and the couch was accented with blue and white pillows. She had tried hard to disguise it, but it was Edward's all the same.

She turned to me, having pulled the comforter down. She smiled sadly. "I had ordered new furniture," she said softly. "It hasn't arrived yet. Do you think this will be okay?"

I nodded numbly.

"There's fresh t-shirts in the armoire," she said, gesturing toward the black piece of furniture on the opposite wall. "It's all new, just random things from charity events, blood drives, etcetera."

I nodded again.

She came over and hugged me. "It's late. You should head to bed."

I looked at her pleadingly.

She patted my cheek. "I hope this is okay, for the time being. It's nice to have you with us, sweet Bella."

She closed the door behind her, and I slumped against the wall. _Sweet Bella. His bed. His couch._

He was going to be the death of me.

Without thinking about it, I stripped out of my clothes and pulled on a t-shirt that said, "Give Blood. Vote Republican." I turned off the lights to keep my attention away from the bed--the bed that I had been in so many times before--and climbed into the sheets. I pulled the blankets high up to my chin, and closed my eyes, breathing out of my mouth. _Esme hasn't changed her laundry soap either._

I slipped into a light and disturbed sleep. I tossed and turned, the sheets and blankets wrapping around me, pulling at my legs and tying me to the bed. But the worst part were the dreams that I slipped in and out of, all extremely vivid, sensual and bright. Colors swirled and meshed, and I could rarely pick anything out of them.

And then, a memory I could never forget, swept across my mind.

_"Are you scared?"_

_I nodded against his sweaty, bare shoulder. He pressed his open lips to my forehead, breathing in and out. He trembled in my arms, and I tightened my hold around him, pressing our bare chests closer together._

_He sighed, and I felt him harden slightly against me. The only thing that stood between us was the thin cotton of my underwear, which both of us were hesitant to pull off. He arched his back, pulling him away from me, and he braced himself on his taut forearms. I felt this muscles in his abdomen tense as he held himself up, and I shivered._

_He brushed my sweaty hair away from my face and placed a light kiss on my mouth. His tongue poked out, tentatively brushing along my lower lip. My hands, shaking with nerves and excitement, reached up slowly to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. He pressed his lips to mine harder, and this time I responded, kissing him back and meeting the gentle undulations of his hips._

_He reached down, gently hooking his fingers around the edge of my underwear and pulling them down. He didn't do anything embarrassing, like smell them or stick them in a safe spot, he just balled them into his fist, and keeping his eyes trained on me the whole time, dropped them to the floor. _

_"I want to make this good for you, Bella."_

_I nodded._

_"Baby, it's going to hurt. And I wish it wouldn't. I wish I could take it all away." I nodded, my hands tightening on his back. "Are you ready?"_

_And I knew that with the slight shake of my head he would stop. But I also that he loved me, and would never do anything to purposefully hurt me. We both wanted this, and he had done so much for me, I wanted to be able to give something back to him. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him, how much I loved him. I wanted to please_ him.

_With the slight nod of my head, he eased into me with a soft, "I love you." At first, I was overwhelmed with such an immense pleasure that my hands fisted in the sheets, my stomach tensed and my back arched, pushing my hips harder into his, driving him deeper inside me._

_That was when the pain came._

_Glassy shards of pure agony shot through my body as delicate membrane tore, causing me to gasp. Despite the wetness, I could still feel the rubber against my inner walls, causing me to wince. My fingernails dug into his back and he hissed, but didn't move. He held still within me, cradling my face between his hands. I thrashed against him, trying to push him out, but he held still until my fighting subsided. Tears leaked from my eyes, and I could see my own pain reflected in his. He pressed his lips to my face, kissing away every tear that was shed, until I lay still beneath him. _

_"I'm sorry, Bella... so sorry... so sorry..."_

_He began to move, slowly pushing in and pulling out. I turned my head to the side, closing my eyes and trying desperately to lose myself in the moment. The good feelings that were coursing through my body didn't register in my brain. What did, however, was the repeated apologies that Edward muttered as he thrust in and out of me, trying to take my pain away._

_I looked at him, my eyes locking with his. "Stop it."_

_He paused inside of me, worry tainting his brow._

_I giggled. "Not that. Stop apologizing."_

_He grinned lopsidedly, and pushed deeper, hitting a spot that caused me to let out a little sound that made his eyes flutter closed. He reached for my hands behind him, bringing them to rest parallel to either side of my head, entwining our fingers. He began panting, and something in my abdomen tigthened, like a tightly coiled spring. _

_My toes curled._

_"Edward... Edward... something's happening..."_

_"Let it come, Bella. Don't hold it. Cum with me..."_

_And with a cry, I let go, white light flashing in front of me, my arms shaking. I heard Edward shout above me, and with three quick, hard thursts, he collapsed on top of me. My arms wrapped around him, and as I slowly came down from my high, I could hear him whispering, almost purring,_

_"Sweet Bella. Sweet, sweet Bella..."_

My eyes popped open and I snapped up from the bed. The sheets and t-shirt I was wearing were soaked through with sweat. I brushed the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail away from my face and swung my legs to hang from the side of the bed. I winced as something sliced into my leg. I glanced down. Blood was dripping from the petal of a metal rose, molded out of the black iron, innocent and perfect.

Something was dripping from my chin, and as my face began to dry from the air of the fan, I felt the salty trail of tears flowing from my eyes.

Sighing, I stood from the bed. I pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom open, and glanced at myself in the mirror. Rosalie wasn't lying about the bags under my eyes--they were dark, and large. I pulled the hair tie out of my hair, ran my fingers through it, then pulled it up in a tighter bun. My eyes were diverted to the bathtub.

I pulled the shower curtain back and stepped onto the marble tile. Lowering myself gently, I settled onto the floor, hissing as the coldness met my heated legs. I curled myself up into the fetal position, wrapping my arms around my tucked knees and lay my head gently down.

I fell back into a deep, still sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer in Profile**

**CHAPTER 3**

**BPOV**

I woke up to the soft snap of the light switch as the light was turned on. Blinking repeatedly, I rubbed my eyes and stretched my stiff legs. I picked my head up and turned it from side to side.

Big mistake.

I winced and bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. My neck felt as if a pole had been shoved down both sides, keeping me from turning or tilting my head at any angle, and whenever I did, that pole heated up and burned straight through my muscles, causing my eyes to water and my lips to tremble.

I was distracted from this pain however when I heard the heavy footsteps on the tile floor. My heart thumped. Rose wasn't that fat. She had gained some weight, but she only sounded like that when she was drunk and wearing thick heels.

Clothing was dropped and I waited in horror as I saw a fist of thick fingers close around the curtain of the shower and yanked it back. My eyes widened.

The only sound in the bathroom for about three seconds was the resounding cling of the metal rings on the curtain rod. Then, "Shit!"

I screamed, not from fright but sheer disgust at the moment, and strained to cover my eyes. I cowered back against the curved marble of the tub, still screaming and still covering my eyes. "Oh, jeez."

To say that it was embarrassing to have one of your best friends' boyfriend's man parts proudly displayed in front of you would be an understatement. I was beyond horrified. Beyond shocked. Beyond embarrassed.

Just plain grossed out.

My cheeks burned hotly as I stumbled out of the tub, nearly tripping on the rim as I kept my eyes covered and tried to make it out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. Ignoring the pain shooting through my neck, I fumbled for the door, feeling around the wall as I tried to make my way from the tub to the guest room.

"The door's open, Bella," Emmett said. I could hear laughter in his voice.

"Shut up," I said, and peeked through my fingers. Seeing the open doorway, I darted from the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. The cool air whooshed around me as I collapsed on the bed, ignoring the intoxicatingly strangling scent and the ever present burning in my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my brain to erase the image of naked Emmett from my mind.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a more conventional position, wrapped in blankets, and was welcomed to the sight of sunlight shining through the window, casting the room in a golden glow. I sat up, rubbing my neck with one hand and sliding out of the bed.

I slipped into my clothes as quickly as I could with the crick in my neck. Opening the door, I peeked left and right before stepping into the hallway. I could make my way through this house with my eyes closed--though that wouldn't be the best decision because of my clumsiness--and knew exactly how to make it to the downstairs and still avoid Emmett's room.

This meant, however, going into Edward's old room.

Gathering my courage, I turned to face the spiral staircase. The metal was cold on the railing, and if desolateness could have a feel, this was it. The silver metal was cool to the touch, and felt hollow, somehow forlorn. But this made no sense to me. Edward's furniture had taken place of the old library, which was where Carlisle spent most of his time. He read everything he could get his hands on. If his books had moved upstairs, wouldn't he spend time up there. And if he did, why did this area feel so...empty?

I had placed my foot on the stair and was in the process of shifting my weight forward when a door opened behind me.

"Oh good, Bella, you're up."

I turned to see Rosalie emerge from Emmett's room, looking like blonde perfection with the exception to her slightly mussed hair. Her skin-tight jeans flowed smoothly into her sky high black heels, and her black silky shirt looked almost as complicated on as it probably did off.

I stepped back off the stairs and turned fully to face her. Her eyebrow shot up. "We can't meet Alice with you looking like that."

"We're meeting Alice?"

She nodded. "Apparently, there's this new French bistro that was built and she wanted to check it out. It's rumored that the food is '_divine'._" Rose was good at imitating Alice, and if it weren't for my obvious feelings of discomfort, I would have laughed. She sighed. "Come on, I think I have something small enough to fit you."

I trudged slowly behind her, stopping in front of the door.

"Rose, I'm going to stay out here, just in case Emmett isn't... decent."

She looked at my awkwardly, then shrugged her shoulders and disappeared into the bedroom, only to reappear a few seconds later. She handed me a pair of skillfully and deliberately pair of torn jeans and a red t-shirt. Not in the mood to complain about the form-fitting objects she handed me, I slipped into the guest room and changed quickly.

I walked back into the hallway to meet a glare.

"Why are you walking funny like that?"

_Shit. She noticed._

"Like what?"

"You're neck is straight, and you're not slouching, but you're head is turned to one side. And your shoulder's raised. Why are you walking funny like that?"

"Well..."

The door opened again and Emmett emerged, thankfully in boxers and a t-shirt. "She had an interesting night in the bathtub."

I hated him in that moment.

"Come again?"

Emmett grinned at me. "She slept in the bathtub."

Rose turned to me and what looked like a glare formed on her face. But as my eyes flooded with tears, her face wiped clean and was replaced with pity and concern.

"Oh, Bella..."

"It's fine," I murmured, walking towards the stairs. "I would like to get going. I have some other things I would like to do today."

She nodded and turned to kiss Emmett. I slowly made my way down the stairs, stepping as lightly as I could, until I made it to the kitchen. Esme was in the process of mixing sugar into her tea and Carlisle was bent over the newspaper, a pencil in his hand, his brow furrowed and a frown on his lips.

"Good morning," Esme said to me, turning from the stove. "Would you like some tea?"

"I need a five letter word for 'plastic shoelace thingie.' Who the hell comes up with these things?" Carlisle looked more frustrated than I had ever seen him.

I shook my head at Esme. "No thanks. Rose and I are going to meet Alice at a bistro in a couple of minutes."

"I have an A and an E."

"Chez Fleurs?" Esme asked.

I shrugged, grimacing. "I guess. I don't know that much about it."

"Now I have A, G and an E."

Esme shook her head. "It's a shame they had to build it there..."

"Ok, A, G, E and T."

I looked at her in confusion. "Built it where?"

Carlisle and Esme exchanged a glance, one that didn't go unnoticed by me. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the answer to my next question as Rose came strutting into the kitchen, Emmett attached to her hip. Her reached over, grabbed a croissant from a bowl, and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.

"Bella, we should get going," she said. "Alice wanted us to be there at ten."

I nodded. "Well, thank you for your hospitality Carlisle and Esme. It's very kind of you--"

"Don't go thanking us yet, dear," she said, waving me off with a hand. "We're not kicking you out yet."

I glanced at Rose in confusion. She grinned sheepishly.

"Rose?"

Emmett coughed. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get going. That bimbo Amber called in sick today, so I'm going to have to take care of her clients too..."

"Emmett," Carlisle said, looking up from his paper. "It's Sunday."

Rosalie grabbed my hand. "We really are going to be late, and you know how Alice gets. Esme, we'll be back around three or so."

"Aglet! I got it. Christ, what kind of a word is _'aglet?'"_

I was no good at mental math, but five hours seemed like a bit much to be spending out at brunch. However, I didn't press the issue as we said our quick goodbyes, exchanged hugs all around and exited the house to the car. We were both silent as we settled into the seats, and it wasn't until Rose reached over to start the car that I saw the diamond sparkling from her finger.

"Rose..." My heart went numb.

She turned to me. "Bella, I'm sorry I haven't told you. But you've seemed to stressed out with everything that I didn't want to bug you. I mean, you're worried about Alice's wedding, you've got exams coming up, and now you have to deal with Edward coming home and..."

"I'm trying not to think about that," I said in a broken whisper, staring out the window.

In silence, she started the car and backed out of the driveway. She didn't say anything until she pulled up to a red light.

"Why did you sleep in the bathtub?"

"Because I didn't want to sleep in Edward's bed," I answered truthfully.

She exhaled. "I didn't think we would be staying there. I honestly thought we would be going back to my apartment. But as you know Emmett moved in a while ago, and while you were asleep I got a call that there had been a robbery. And Emmett, being the overprotective bastard that he is, kicked me out of my own apartment, saying it was unsafe and I wasn't to step foot in there unaccompanied until he deemed it safe again. I think he just wanted me to move in with him, but somehow this seemed like the opportune moment. I wanted to tell you, about the engagement I mean, I really did. And it's only temporary. He's been on the computer since he called me looking for apartments."

I glanced over at her to see her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. Her face was white and her lips trembled as she spoke. "I know that he wasn't the computer _that _much. You guys were romping around all night." Sighing, I laid a hand over hers. "Rose, it's fine. Really. I'm happy that you guys are engaged and living together. That's nice." I drew my lips into a fake smile. "Really."

She sighed in relief, thankfully not calling my bluff, and turned around the corner. I really was happy for her... truthfully. But I was having a hard time showing it due to the fact that I had all of a sudden fallen into a depressed funk that was leaving me emotionally numb. It didn't help that she hadn't told me about being engaged,--or her apartment being robbed for that matter-- but as she continued to drive, I spotted the minor changes that had been made around Forks since I had left.

The Sheriff's office had been revamped, including potted plants, a new paint job and a new logo.

The stoplights had been replaced.

Streetlights decorated the sides of the road.

Flower bushes were everywhere, including around storefronts and along the side of the road.

I was a little confused when we pulled into the parking lot of the old bookstore that I had spend most of my time in my freshman year--before I met Edward. I turned to Rose. "I thought we were going to a bistro?"

"We are."

I looked back in confusion and sucked in a breath.

Where the old wooden "Walden's Books" sign had been there was a pink and white sign in cursive script. "Chez Fleurs." The porch had been converted into a lounge, and the old Used Books racks were replaced with tables and chairs. Awnings covered the windows, and the old, comforting hue of the building had been painted over in pink and green.

"Bella..."

"It's fine," I snapped, unlocking my seat-belt with as much force as I could muster. I slammed the door behind me and petulantly stormed up the stairs. Alice had come from the front door, and seeing the redness in my face smiled sympathetically.

It was irrational, of course, to think that Forks would remain unchanged when I came back after ten years. But Walden's? Really? It had been my safe haven, the place I went when I wanted silence or a place to think. When Charlie had gotten sick, I spend almost four hours among the shelves, searching for books about leukemia. When Charlie had sent me back to Florida to visit my mom for Christmas, I had spend about three days searching for plane-reading material.

To say the least, Walden's book had been my second home.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Alice whispered.

I shook my head, wiping my eyes. "For what? Forks shouldn't have stayed the same for seven years. It looks good."

Rose joined us on the steps, shifting uncomfortably. I wiped at my eyes again. "What are we standing here for?"

Alice and Rose exchanged a glance.

"Come on. We have stuff to do."

I swung the door open and stomped into the restaurant.

*

Four hours, two espressos, seven cucumber sandwiches and twenty peppermints later, I was in the car again, this time driving Alice's Porsche while she rode back to the Cullens' house to go over last minute, unsettled things with Esme.

Apparently, I was no help in wedding details when I was about as sociable as a rock.

I was headed to Charlie's, and at the moment didn't care that the grandeur of Alice's car didn't blend in with the scenery. I was intent on getting to his house to make sure that he was okay, and that he hadn't changed too.

I wouldn't be able to handle much more.

I pulled into the driveway, sighing as I saw that he hadn't changed a thing on the outside. The hedges were still there--a little unkempt and overgrown. The house was the same rustic ruddy brown. His cruiser was parked in the driveway, and I smirked when I saw my truck parked off to the side near the garage. Two rocking chairs sat perched on the porch, and the curtains were still pulled open, allowing any sunlight that was available to seep through the windows.

I clamored up the steps, and awkwardly knocked on the door. I had always been able to let myself in before.

The front door opened slowly, and Sue Clearwater stepped out onto the porch.

"Bella!" she exclaimed. "What a nice surprise!"

"Hi," I muttered. "Is my dad here?"

"Yes, yes!" she said ushering me through the front door. "Please! He's been talking about you all the time. He was wondering when you would come back to see him."

I nodded, clearing my throat as I crossed through the threshold and into the foyer. A few things had been moved around, and a fairly live potted ficus sat on an end table next to a recent looking picture of me.

I moved silently through the house, taking in everything around me. Nothing had changed. The walls were the same colors, the pictures hanging on the walls were all the same, even the clock I had broken when tripping down the stairs hung on the wall, un-ticking, still broken.

I walked into the living room.

"Where's Char--Dad?" I asked. He wasn't perched in front of the TV like I had expected him to be. The TV was off, looking deserted, and a slight film of dust covered the screen. The living room was unusually clean--when I had lived there, I had tried my best to pick up after him, but there was always a beer bottle on the table, a spare sock on the floor, or a pizza crust somehow wedged in the cushions of the couch.

"He's upstairs," Sue said. Her eyes had taken on a slightly sad look.

My heart seemed like the only thing willing to move.

I slowly trudged up the stairs, dreading every moment. With every step I took, it brought me closer and closer to the change that I most didn't want to see. The one change that I was most definitely not prepared for. My breathing grew shallower, and Sue seemed to lose her chipperness the closer and closer I got to his bedroom.

I paused outside the door, my hand on the door. I glanced back at her, trying to pull as much courage and support I could from her gaze. She smiled slightly, and nodded me toward the door.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

He was laying in the bed, as frail as I had ever seen him before. His bones, which were visible through his skin, seemed weak and delicate. His skin had taken on a yellow, papery tone, and I was afraid that if I touched him he would turn to dust. His eyes were closed, straining out against his skull, and his hair had already thinned out to a sand-like layer across the top of his head. His once ruddy cheeks were hollow, sunken into his head, and his burly, thick muscles were reduced to almost nothing.

I was crying by the time I made it to his bed. He heard my approach and opened his eyes. He smiled at me, making me cry even harder. Because this body, this wasn't him. But that smile was, making this all that much more real. That skeleton... that ghost... that was my _dad_.

"Hi, Daddy."

He closed his eyes. "You... haven't... called me... 'daddy'... since you were... five."

I knelt down beside his bed, taking his hand. Tears were flowing freely, and I choked when he winced at my grasp.

"I'm sorry," I wailed. "I'm sorry I haven't been here. I'm sorry I--"

He chuckled at me. "You... haven't... fussed this much... over me... since... you were making me... eat that nasty... lasagna you... used to make..."

"You used to like it!" I protested.

He gave me a look that I had grown to know very well. "I... said that I... liked it... so you wouldn't... stop cooking for me."

"Oh, Dad."

"I've...missed you... Jingle Bells..."

I knelt my head next to our folded hands, allowing my tears to drip onto the sheets. "Dad, tell me what I can do. What can I do to make this better?"

"You... can't... Bells," he whispered. "There's... nothing you... can do. The chemo's... too... expensive. You need... to spend... that money... for... school... and..."

I shook my head. "No. It's not important. You're my dad. We can figure something out. I... I can get another jpb. I can go back to school later. You... you can't... you... it's not... you... you can't... Dad..."

"Bells..."

"I don't want you to die!" I shouted out, causing all of us to cringe. I hadn't meant to say the word. It had just slipped out, and brought more pain than the sight of him could have. Because I had muttered the word 'die,' I had brought up that it was a possibility. I had brought it into the equation. And that wasn't right.

"Honey... I'm not... going to... die," he whispered. "Have you honestly... lived with me for... damn near... fifteen years... and... not realized... that I'm too... stubborn... to let... something as dumb as... illness... get to me?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing all of it to go away. "Daddy? What can I do? Please. Just tell me something. What can I do."

He watched me for a moment, and then, softly, said, "Can you... move... back in... again."

I nodded. "Yes. Yes."

He lowered his voice. "Sue... can't cook. Her... food is... terrible."

Sue sniffed behind me. "You ate it all every time I made something."

He chuckled, a wheezing, horrific sound. "I... said that... so you wouldn't... stop cooking for me."

I laughed softly, and leaned over, brushing my lips against his forehead. "I'm right here, Dad," I whispered against his forehead. "I won't go anywhere."

**EPOV**

I had always hated plane food. The crackers were always stale, they never gave you enough Coke when you asked for it, and the cheese was always too runny.

But I couldn't complain as the wheels touched the tarmac at SeaTac. I was back in Washington for the first time in ten years.

My heart was pounding. My hands were sweaty for the first time since my first surgery a year ago. My eyes wouldn't focus, and I was fidgeting. My knees jiggled, my fingers tapped on the seat trays, and I kept turning my head from side to side, looking out the windows.

I wasn't nervous about coming back to Forks to see my family. I had missed them, but I wasn't troubled over that. I wasn't nervous about seeing old people I had not seen in so long, I wasn't nervous about meeting up with old friends.

I was nervous about seeing Bella.

I had come home to Bella.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbed my briefcase and walked off the plane.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer in Profile**

**CHAPTER 4**

**BPOV**

I had a small dinner with Sue about an hour later after Charlie had fallen asleep. We discussed everything from when I had left for college to yesterday, and it made me sick the way she described his health slowly declining.

When I had left, he had been ok. The leukemia cells had been dormant, and when Sue moved in, she promised she would let me know if anything happened. She said he had been fine, working and meeting his friends out in the reservation for fishing and baseball games, until his health suddenly got worse three years after I left, when I was twenty-one, surprisingly a long time for someone who had been diagnosed when I was fifteen. He had been fighting it for a while, able to go through chemotherapy and send it into remission. But a few months ago, it came back, and he couldn't afford any more medical treatment. So he had spent his time in bed, gradually getting worse until he could no longer move.

No longer able to cry, I stared at Sue. "Why haven't you been doing anything?"

She sighed, and reached across the table for my hand. I yanked it back.

"Bella, I've tried. I have tried paying for it, but Charlie won't let me. He keeps telling me that I'm crazy and to just let him be."

"But he's sick, Sue!" I cried, jumping from the table. "How hard have you been trying to fight him?"

She looked at me for a minute. "Bella, do you think that if he were healthy, he would allow me pay for anything? What makes you think that just because he's sick and in a bed means he's not fighting just as hard, or that I can still disregard his wishes?"

I sat down, ashamed. "You're right," I said sadly. "But he can't just lay there, in pain, while he's..." I choked. "Dying."

Sue smiled sadly. "He won't let me help. He came close to catapulting out of the bed the other day, in his frail state, when I told him I was going to check him into a hospital. We battle constantly, on a daily basis, over this. I don't want to sit there while he deteriorates, but he won't let me do anything about it."

I folded my arms and placed my head in my hands. "Why didn't you call me?" I asked, my voice muffled. "I would have come back."

She sighed again. "He wouldn't let me call you either. In fact, he went so far as to threaten me with arrest for resisting an officer. He said your education was important and that I shouldn't bother you. The one time I was able to call, yourdorm supervisor said you were out. I told him to have you call me back, but you never did."

I never had any messages at the dorms. I never went to pick up messages.

"I'm sorry, Sue," I sighed. "If I had gotten the message I would have come."

She shook her head. "It's no problem, Bella. He's in pain, but he's happier than I've ever seen him. It's quite remarkable, actually. He can be crotchety, but I think he's happy."

I picked at my salad. "Do you think that my being here will help?"

She smiled kindly at me. "I think it will, Bella. He's missed you."

We talked for another hour, remembering Charlie when he was in better health, laughing at all of his bumbling mistakes and mishaps. I was in slightly better spirits when the clock in the living room sang.

I climbed the stairs to say good-bye, and when I gently pushed the door open again for the second time that day, I found Charlie asleep. His breathing was slow and shallow but steady, and he looked so peaceful I felt tears gather in my eyes again. I walked over toward him and bent over next to the bed.

"I'll be back in the morning, Dad," I whispered, and brushed my lips lightly against his forehead. When I pulled away, I saw a slight smile on his face, and but couldn't bring myself to grin back at him. I ran my fingers lightly over his cheek, and then, without looking back at him, turned walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.

I was crying again when I was in the car, but I wasn't even sure why; I wasn't feeling anything. I was numb. I felt like I had emptied my body of tears, but they continued to flow, blurring my vision and distracting me as I constantly reached up to brush the tears away. I drove one-handed and slower than usual, ignoring the honks behind me.

I drove without knowing where I was going.

An hour and a half-tank of gas later, I arrived at a park that hadn't been there when I was last in Forks. It was a small, man-made area of grass, surrounded by trees and benches and a large stone and iron gate. As I walked up to the entrance, I saw a small piece of paper taped to one of the pillars, I assumed serving as a plaque until a real one could be made.

My face flushed when I saw what it read.

_Charlie Swan Memorial Park  
__April 14, 1959 -  
__Beloved father, friend and fellow officer  
"Let not the darkness of fear and sorrow block the light of courage."_

I ripped the paper from the pillar, went back to the car and grabbed a marker from the flove compartment. Laying the paper flat on the car hood, I scribbled hastily, _He's not dead yet, _bent the tape around, and stuck it back to the pillar. Furious, I yanked back the gate and walked onto the grass.

My anger melted away at the breathtaking beauty that met my eyes.

The grass was lush and green, the trees freshly planted and well groomed. Small iron plaques were placed at the foot of every one, and I bent over to every tree I passed, reading the names inscribed.

_Dedicated in loving memory by Sue, Seth and Lea Clearwater. _

_Given in endless gratitude by Billy Black. _

_The Cheney Family. _

_Dedicated by the Weber Family. _

_Forever grateful, Forks High School._

_We'll always remember you, Forks Police Department._

_Dedicated by the Mallory's. We'll never forget you._

A small, man-made lake was at the center of the garden, and as I sat down on the bench, I saw two small swans swimming behind a fountain spurting water in the middle of it. I watched them, breathless, as they swam around, casually avoiding me.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, the swans swimming round and round, the sky darkening until there was nothing but endless blackness. Lights flickered on, and, no longer able to stand the gloom, I stood, stretching my aching legs, and moved back to the car. Driving in silence, I thought of nothing, paying only slight attention to the things that were whizzing past me as I sped unconsciously back to the Cullen's house.

I pulled into the Cullen driveway, barely noticing the strange car in the driveway next to Rose's car. I didn't know anyone who drove a silver Volvo, but didn't pause to think about it as I assumed it was a friend of Emmett's or Carlisle's or Esme's.

I parked the car and got out, fixing my hair a little and brushing the excess wetness away from underneath my eyes. I walked up the walkway, and gently pushed the door open.

The house smelled of freshly baked bread, pot roast, and buttery vegetables, my favorite meal of Esme's cooking. I placed Alice's keys in the jar on the foyer table, and heard the soft buzz of laughter and conversation coming from the living room. I took a deep breath, but instead of heading into the living room to join the conversation, slowly and quitely made my way up the stairs again.

I slept fitfully and lightly in the bathtub, tossing and turning, bumping my head on the tile every few minutes. I dreamt of everything and nothing at all. Bright colors again flashed across my vision, and I could only pick out a few things at a time.

Only this time, the nightmare wasn't of Edward.

Now, it was Charlie.

Suddenly, a sequence of images formed together to make a horrifying scene. His body, frail and weak, was running, but he was going nowhere as he tripped on the floor. Ahead of him, I could see a small, skinny, brown-haired girl sprinting ahead of him, not turning around. He called out to her, but she didn't turn. She was getting farther and farther ahead, and the sounds of his calls were getting softer and softer.

"Please... come back... don't leave me... here... like this..."

I woke to the sounds of my screams echoing off the tile.

I finally climbed out of the tub when I could see the sky lightening outside from the window. My neck was stiff, though not as painful, but my face was a more hurtful sight. Bags, as purple as a bruise and as large as Rosalie had said stood out from under my eyes. My face was thin and pale, the roots of my hair sweaty from my sleep.

Fitfully, I yanked a brush through my hair and pulled it into another, cleaner ponytail and straightened my shirt. I brushed my teeth, and after rummaging through the drawers around the sink found a compact of blush. I brushed it over my face, hoping to hide the bags. It worked, to an extent, and even gave my face a little more color.

As I exited the bathroom, I was drawn again to the staircase at the end og the hall. It still held that mysterious desertedness, drawing me to it like it had yesterday. After looking left and right, I proceeded toward it. However, I had gotten to about the same place I had yesterday, my foot placed on the first stair when I heard a clanging of pots downstairs. Confused--because Esme didn't start cooking until nine, and it was barely seven--I made my way toward the stairs.

I made my way down as lightly as I could. I made an attempt to be silent as I made my way through the house toward the kitchen where the clanging was getting louder. I grinned as I imagined Carlisle complaining about the order of the things in the refrigerator, or Emmetttrying to find a cookie sheet to back biscuits on.

The smile slipped off of my face and my breath hitched in my throat.

His bronze hair was shorter than it used to be, and couldn't be considered a mop anymore, though it was still as unruly as ever. He didn't slouch; instead his posture was near ramrod straight as he knelt in front of the refrigerator, his back facing me. He looked taller, even from his crouched position, and I could make out from where I was standing the gray band of his boxers sticking out from the top of his black pajama pants.

He stood up with a blue carton of eggs, but didn't notice me as he turned around and began to rummage in the drawers beneath the stove. "What the hell?" he murmured, and I could imagine what he was looking at. The stacks of pans, lined up by steel or copper and size. I almost chuckled.

That chuckle turned into a gasp as he stood up.

After wandering to his pale chest and chilseled abs, my eyes came up to meet his shocking green eyes. "Holy shit," he breathed, and the pan clattered from him hands onto the floor. My heart been trying to pound out of my chest, but was now frozen solid. My hands trembled and I clasped them together to stop the shaking.

He was infinitely more beautiful than he had been in high school. Any trace of adolescence had left his features--his jaw was more pronounced, his nose and cheekbones chiseled and sharp. His brilliant emerald eyes shone through a bush of black eyelashes, and his perfect pale skin was flawless, not a blemish on it, as it stretched across his face.

As shocked as I was to see him, he looked twice as disturbed. His eyes clouded over, and his brow furrowed.

"Bella," he whispered.

I couldn't bring myself to say anything to him in that moment. All of the hurt and pain I had felt because of him over the past ten years came rushing over me in a wave, and I barely had the strength left to keep my head above water. I had to get out of there.

I turned and ran.

I wasn't sure where I was going. All I was aware of were my feet pounding on the wooden flooring, and then on the cement of the pathway, and then the grass of the lawn, and then the concrete of the road. I begged God and gravity to forget about my clumsiness and to keep me from falling as I tried to make my getaway. I was running faster and faster, the tight jeans I was wearing not hindering me in the slightest.

I didn't feel the rocks digging into the soles of my feet.

I didn't feel the bitter cold nipping at my nose and turning the tears in my eyes to ice.

All I could feel was the thudding of my heart as I ran farther and farther away from the one thing that could tear my life apart.

**EPOV**

I wasn't expecting to see her. And seeing her there in exactly what she used to wear as a teenager--jeans and a t-shirt--had been, well, a little more than a pleasant surprise.

I had not been able to get her out of my head since I left a little under ten years ago. I had boarded the plane the last night I had seen her barely able to get my thoughts straight, but I had known that I had screwed up by not calling her to let her know what had happened. It had broken my heart, leaving her like that, but I had to do it.

There was someone else who needed my help, and if that meant sacrificing my happiness, then dammit, that had to happen.

She had changed, and definitely for the better. She had kept her hair, not cutting it any shorter than it had been when we were teenagers--the gorgeous brown waves falling gracefully down her back. Her skin was still beautifully pale, and I was surprised to see that she had ditched the black eye makeup she had worn as a teenager. It was sexy then, but would have been scary now. Her figure had filled out, and the sight of it made my body painfully aware of just how much I had missed her--emotionally and physically. She was still lean and thin, but her breasts and seemed to fill out almost doubly and her hips now curved into a graceful sway into long, shapely legs.

I wanted to go after her. I was slipping on a t-shirt when I felt a strong hand clasp on my shoulder. "Let her go," he said.

"Emmett, I can't--"

He shook his head. "Let her go."

"No, you don't understand, I--"

Again, he shook his head. "She's having a rough time right now. Just let her be."

I shrugged out of his grip. "Emmett, that's... that's Bella. That's _my _Bella. I can't just let her--"

Emmett sighed and ruffled his short hair. "Edward, it's been a long time--"

I made a move toward the door and he sent me a look of pure death. "Don't. You may be hot-shot doctor now, making more money than me, a lowly physical trainer, but I can still kick your ass to the point where your pretty money won't be able to fix it. Now listen."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "I can't let her get away..."

"You don't have a choice. Because you won't be going after her. She's been through hell over the past few years, and the last thing she needs is for you to make it worse."

"Emmett, what are you--"

"Edward," Rosalie said from the top of the stairs. As usual, not changing from when she was seventeen, she had every hair in place and her clothes were creasless in their prefection. I glanced at her, waiting for her to make her announcement as well. "Do what Emmett says."

I gaped at her. "Just because you're fucking my brother--"

"Watch it," he growled.

"--doesn't mean you have to take his side."

She giggled. "You sound like you're five," she said, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the islan. "And I'm not taking sides. I'm not saying give up on her entirely. Just give her time to get the rest of her life in order before you come in and fuck it up again."

"What are you talking about?"

She glanced at Emmett and then looked at me. "Just, please. Listen to me, just this once."

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair again. "I don't understand--"

"Just listen and--"

"Stop interupting me!" I cried. "What's the problem? You both seemed to be fine with us when we were kids. We practically jumped each other's bones in front of your faces and you didn't care. What's the change?"

"Edward," Rosalie said in a strangled voice. "It's been ten years."

"So?"

"That's a long time," Emmett added brilliantly.

"Yeah, I know, thanks Einstein."

"She's... changed, Edward."

"What do you mean?"

Emmett sighed, but Rosalie suddenly spoke up, her blue eyes suddenly cold as stones and slate gray in the morning light. In a hard voice, she said, "She doesn't love you anymore."

**BPOV**

The only disappointing thing was, I wanted him to tear up my life and put it back together again, making all the pieces fit correctly.

But he didn't come after me.

Of course.

He didn't love me anymore.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know Rose was being harsh, but it'll all play out in a little bit. And this chapter may be a little confusing, but let me know if it's overly that way. I had to get a few things out in the open. Also, I'm not 100% sure on all the facts of leukemia here... I got most of them from WebMD, but if there is anyone reading this who disagrees with anything I've mentioned, please PLEASE let me know. I don't want to be wrong and offend anyone who's experienced, so PLEASE tell me.**

**Also, I'm not one to beg, but please review my story. I love getting feedback, and criticism is always welcome. I will try my best to get back to everyone who has reviewed, whether I'm answering a question or just thanking you. I really do want to know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

**PRETTY THINGS**

**CHAPTER 5**

**BPOV**

*****MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

Without actually realizing it, I ran all the way to the memorial park. As much as I hated it being there, especially when Charlie was still alive, I still found myself wanting to be there. It was so serene, so quiet. It gave me a place to think.

Peace.

Quiet.

The swans were nowhere to be seen today. A few times I saw their feathers, but for the most part they stayed hidden. A few leaves from the trees littered the ground. It was bitterly cold, which I hadn't realized this morning as I was making my getaway, and I was about to leave when I sensed someone's presence behind me and a small, spritely shadow covered my own. She sat down next to me.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," Alice said in her tinkling soprano.

I sniffled. "For what? You didn't do anything wrong."

"About Edward," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you he'd be flying in so soon. I honestly didn't know."

I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

She winced at my cold voice. She placed her umbrella on the ground and sighed. Her head dropped. "Bella..."

"Alice, I'm fine."

She shook her head, and when her head came up there were tears in her eyes. "No, Bella, you're not. You're not the same."

"Sorry." I shrugged again.

A strangled sound came from her throat. I didn't understand her. What the hell was she crying about?

"What are you crying for, Alice?"

She ran her hand under her nose, like a little child, reminding me that this was _Alice. _Underneath the designer clothes and expensive spray tan and hair care, she was still Alice. My best friend. She hadn't changed at all.

_I _had.

"You're not _Bella _anymore," she sobbed. "You're...you're just this empty carcas. This empty shell of the girl who used to be my best friend. You used to be so happy. You were funny and beautiful and carefree and just... _Bella. _And I don't know why--"

"Yes you do," I interupted.

"What?"

"Let me ask you a question," I said, standing, a rush of emotions passing over me so strongly that it clouded my sense of reason and I grew angrier and angrier. "Where were you when Charlie got sick? Where were you when my mom died? Where were you when he left? Where were you when I got into college? Where were you when--"

"I was _right here, _Bella," she protested.

"No you weren't!" I yelled, my face flushed.

"Oh, Bella."

"You left me! You left for more important things! Things... that were... better than--"

She wrapped her arms around me as I came undone. Sobbing, my fingers dug into her back as I tried to cling onto reality. She rubbed my back and hair as I cried everything that was left in my body. I felt her move and with unusual strength, dragged me down onto the ground with her. I buried my face in her neck as I cried and she hugged me.

"Why did he leave, Alice?" I sobbed. "What did I do wrong?"

"It wasn't you," she said. "You didn't do anything."

I sniffed. "That's what everyone says. But he...he wouldn't have left if I hadn't done something wrong. If I hadn't screwed up. If..."

"Stop," Alice said. "Bella, I'm not sure what you know, I probably don't know much more, but if you knew how much he loved you, you wouldn't be saying that--wouldn't even pause to think it. Bella, he loved you with every bit of soul he had in him. I knew him since preschool, and I'd seen him go through crushes and girlfriends like underwear." I winced. "But with you, he was... different. He would have done anything you asked him to. And when he told you he loved you, it wasn't just words to him. I saw it. Every time he looked in your eyes and said, 'I love you,' it was like he was giving you a piece of himself. He was sharing a part of himself that no one else got to see."

"It's...it's just not fair. He didn't let me say goodbye. He just packed up and left. Without even telling me. Who does that?"

She sighed. "Bella, I know you're confused, but so is everyone. I don't know why, Rose doesn't know, Jasper doesn't, even Emmett... and its a tough call between him and Jasper who Edward hurt the most. I don't mean to say that what you lost was any less, but Jasper lost his lifelong best friend, and Emmett lost a brother, neither of them knowing why either. Do you know how many times I woke up at night to hear Jasper crying? Too many to count. And you know him-- doesn't like to show emotion in front of anyone. How much must he be hurt to cry like that?"

"But I still don't understand..."

"I know," she stroked my hair. "None of us do." She giggled. "But won't it be funny to see Edward get his ass kicked? Emmett's been talking about it for years, and he's going to ask Jasper to help, which I'm sure he'll do. And Rose, you know her, she punches the guys that hit on her before Emmett gets the chance. And I want my share of ass kicking too, so... that's just a start."

I couldn't help but laugh, and wiped the tears from my face. "Look at me. I'm a blubbering idiot."

Alice chuckled and hugged my tightly. "But you look like a _genuine _blubbering idiot. It's the first bit of _you_ I've seen in almost ten years. I've missed you, Bella."

I nodded. "I'm sorry. I'll get better... I'll..."

"Nobody's asking you to," Alice said quietly. "Like it or not, this is all a part of you. All of this angst, its a part of you, and is building you stronger every second. The thing you have to look out for is the one trial that will test your strength. And you have to stop yourself and ask, _Am I ready for that?"_

I nodded. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew right then that something major was going to be happening...

...Soon.

*

Alice agreed to give me a ride to Charlie's and she would tell the others where I was. I smiled, finally smiled, as I climbed out of the car. I felt like something was being put back into place. Something key that had missing from my body had been put back, and I felt light and airy as I bounced up the porch stairs, radiant and cheery.

It was hard to keep that attitude as I entered the dreary interior of my once-been home. The dust and rigidity of everything was suffocating, but, plastering a smile on my face, I marched up the stairs and had to restrain myself from pushing the door open forcefully to announce my presence.

Gently, I eased the story open. Charlie was awake, staring feebly at a book placed in front of him.

"Hey, Dad!" I said emphatically, pulling a chair from the wall over to the side of his bed and plopping down.

He grinned. "Hey... kid," he replied, his frail voice saturated with happiness and warmth. "You seem happy."

I giggled. "Yep. I'm feeling happy today."

He smiled widely. "Then why... are you here, honey? Don't... let me... drag down your... good mood."

"Nonsense," I said, pulling his back forward gently so that I could fluff his pillows. "I love being here."

His brow furrowed. "Now I... know you're... shitting me. What do you... want? A way out... of my... will? Too bad kid... you're in there... for almost... everything I've got... and there's... no way... you're getting... out."

I blushed. "Dad, stop it."

"It's the... truth."

I put my hand on his neck, bringing my eyes close to his. "You're not going to die," I said passionately. "I've seen the memorial park and don't care about what I get from your will. It doesn't matter, because you're not going anywhere. You're staying right here, with the people you love, and 'there's no way you're getting out.'"

His fingers brushed along my cheek, their texture sand papery rough and dry. "Bells, I'm dying. That's a... fact that I've... accepted. No, 'there's no way... I'm getting out,' but... I know that. I just want... to spend my... last days... in happiness."

I nodded. I was determined that he was wrong though, and smiled at him. "You've let this house get dirty, and I won't have it. Where's Sue?"

"She went... to go... see Lea... out at the rez."

"And left you here?"

His face flushed pitifully and he squinted at me. "I can take... perfectly good care... of myself... thank you."

I laughed and kissed his hollow cheek. "I'm sure you can. So, I'm going to leave you to it and go clean the house. Don't do anything devilish while I'm gone."

He flushed again. "Sue restricted me... from the computer... when she... found me... watching porn, so... there's not... much else... I can do."

I blushed furiously.

"I'm... kidding, Bells."

"Uh-huh."

I moved to the closed curtains and yanked them open. "You need a little cheerfulness in here. Leave 'em open."

I left the door open as I moved downstairs and into the kitchen, hoping that there were some cleaning products left. I checked under the sink and could have shouted in happiness when I found a half-empty bottle of bleach, some Windex, 409 and Pledge. I donned a pair of gloves and a mouth mask and went to work, cleaning off every surface I could make it to.

I tried to log onto the Internet to check up on baseball statistics, but found the the Internet was cut off. After calling the provider, I was able to get it turned back on--and a massive bill added to my credit card--and printed out page after page of stats from this year, including the scores to every game.

I scrubbed until my knuckles were raw and my nose tingled from the smell of lemon cleansers. But I was happy. I was doing something for Charlie, in the place where I had spent so much time. I was doing something useful with my body, and I was pleasing someone whom I loved.

I couldn't say as much for other people.

**EPOV**

I wasn't expecting the greeting I received when I got home. Of course, I knew that I wouldn't be welcomed in the best of lights. I had left without so much as a word to anyone besides Carlisle and Esme. So it was understandable that they would hate me.

Jesus, I was an ass.

I had been stupid to assume that when I came back that Bella would still love me. I had hoped she would wait for me, and that that faith would carry me through the days until I could come back home to see her.

It hadn't and my heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest.

_On the day that I left for Chicago, after winning the championship football game, I had received a text from Bella on my way home the night I left. It had been simple, the way Bella's texts always were, and said,_

_Your brother's an ass. I still love you. Will you be over tonight?_

_She had always brought a smile to my face, even before we started dating. My fingers were on the keys in a reply, I didn't get a chance to respond as in the second later, my phone buzzed again, this time, the number from home. I picked up immediately--Carlise and Esme rarely called on this phone. They usually called Emmett, since he was my main mode of transportation._

_"Hey," I said picking up. "We're on the way home right now. The game ran a little longer than expected. We're right around the corner."_

_"Hurry," was all Carlisle said before he hung up._

_Emmett pulled into the driveway, and before he could say anything, I jumped out of the car and dashed for the door, barely noticing the sweep of Emmett's headlights as he drove away again, probably heading to Rose's. Thinking that someone was dying, I burst through the door to find Esme, her hands clasped together, tears in her eyes. Carlisle had his arm around her, and he too looked on the verge of a breakdown._

_"What is it?" I asked nervously._

_"Edward, we... we have some things to talk about."_

_I nodded impatiently. "Okay. What's going on."_

_"Sit down, son, so we can talk about this."_

_I did as they told me, but the second my backside touched the sofa I started firing off questions. "What is it? Are you sick? Is Esme? Are you guys getting divorced? Because that's plain stupid. Did you lose your job? Are we moving--?"_

_"Edward, calm down," Esme said. "It's not what you think."_

_"What else warranties Esme crying and you in an emotional mess?" I was growing frustrated._

_"Edward, we... we got a call from the adoption agencies."_

_"Are... are you guys giving me back?" No, they couldn't. They... they loved me. I hadn't done anything wrong..._

_"Of course not, dear," Esme said, her beautiful face shockingly white._

_"Then what's wrong?"_

_"Now, Edward," Carlisle said. "I'm going to need to treat you like an adult instead of a sixteen year-old, because you're being put under adult circumstances, and I need you to try--"_

_"What the hell is going on?"_

_He sighed and exchanged a glance with Esme. "I've got the computer all set-up to get you a seat on the plane if you should so choose. All I need to do is confirm it."_

_"Where am I going?" My hands trembled._

_"Edward, we... we've found your mother."_

_"Mommy, please, don't make them take me. I want to stay with you."_

_Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head, and her normally beautiful face was pale and ashen. It had been a constant stream of vomitting and trips to the bathroom for two weeks, and I didn't know what to do. They had taken Daddy away about a month ago, after I had tried to wake him up and he wouldn't open his eyes. He had promised me to teach me to play baseball that day._

_"Honey, do as the policeman says. It's only for a while. I'll get better and then we'll be back together again. It's only for a little while. Use your manners with your new mommy and daddy."_

_I had been in the house, trying with all the might of my five-year-old mind to take care of her, but I just wasn't doing good enough. I brought her soup and colored pictures to make her feel better and read from my First Year Reader to her every morning, but she wasn't getting any better. Her body was deteriorating before my eyes, and I was powerless to stop it._

_"But you're my mommy! You're supposed to protect me."_

_"I am, baby," she said. "Someday, you'll realize that I am."_

_That was the last day I had heard from or about her._

_Until that day._

_And I was helpless from going to help her. I had been considered masochistic in my medical career, resisting sleep and friends to perform complex surgeries and rack up hours in the ER. But no time had ever defined me as a masochist until that moment, when I gave up the one thing I loved most in the world for something I didn't even know still wanted me._

It was the biggest mistake of my life, and I was paying dearly for it now.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So there. I hope you have it. I know it's still a little evasive, but this was just a filler chapter, kind of my Christmas present to you all. I promise, in the next chapter, you will find out why he left. I hope you liked it!**

**Gosh, I appreciate the reviews, however, I have a small request. While I appreciate the many reviews I've been receiving, please try to sign them. The frustrating thing is, usually the people who have the best questions don't sign their reviews and so I can't respond to them :) I'll try to answer as many of the most commonly asked questions here.**

**1. Why did Rose say 'She doesn't love you anymore' in the last chapter?  
**You've read Twilight, you all know how Rose is. She really _is _trying to look out for Bella, even in her pigheaded, abrasive, annoying and sometimes wrong way. I needed also a way to develop Charlie's story, and this way Bella will pay more attention to him.

**2. Why did Edward leave?  
**I'm sorry guys, I can't really tell you anything without ruining the story. It will come up soon.

**3. To "LARKIN": When is the next chapter?  
**LOL to the extreme… I will post it as soon as I can write it.

**4. To "MADDY":  
**How am I supposed to take your review? Critisism of me or my characters?

**And, since you are all being so patient, here is a spoiler I've decided to give you all, just for the hell of it.**

**Will there be lemons?  
**Oh, yes. There will be many later on.  
So there, you kinda know how the story end…  
…Or not

**You guys are amazing! Keep reviewing!**

**-Carlynn**


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